Sunday, May 13, 2018

Spotlight on #Contemporary #Western #Romance excerpt from Kerrigan's Law by Debra Mullins @DebraMullins

Today I have the pleasure of spotlighting KERRIGAN'S LAW (Welcome to Burr: Book 3) by amazing writer Debra Mullins. Kerrigan's Law is also available on audio and in paperback.

Blurb: When bounty hunter J.G. Kerrigan comes to Burr, Wyoming Territory, he discovers his old back-stabbing nemesis Blade in town, trying to pass himself off as a respectable citizen. Kerrigan is determined to bring him to justice, and becoming the sheriff of the small town Blade cares about seems the best way to do it. But Kerrigan doesn't count on reverend's daughter Marianne Westerly complicating matters. Her sweet compassion threatens to bring Kerrigan's darkest secret into the light, but it turns out the lady has ghosts in her own past as well...

Marianne Westerly looked up from the article she was
writing as the door to the newspaper office opened. A huge man filled the
doorway, a black silhouette in the glare of the afternoon sun, his shoulders
spanning the width of the doorframe and his hat nearly touching the top of it.

She reminded herself of the derringer in her reticule, of
the rifle on the wall behind her, then stood, shading her eyes. “May I help
you?”

“I sure hope so.” His voice was like gravel and rust,
hard-used and rough. “I’m looking for the sheriff.”

“The sheriff resigned a few weeks back.” Marianne set down
her pencil with outward calm, her pulse thundering through her veins, and
gestured to the Help Wanted poster on the board near the door. “We haven’t
replaced him yet. Job’s open if you’re interested.” She tried for a smile. “Would
you please step inside? That sun is quite strong today.”

“Sorry, ma’am.” He stepped fully into the office, then gave
a jerk on the rope he held. Another man stumbled in, tethered at the end of the
line like a mule, skinny and sullen.

She swallowed her shock. A woman who lived on the frontier
couldn’t be missish, not at the sight of a man all tied up. She dragged her
gaze from the prisoner to his captor with what she hoped was calm aplomb—an
aplomb that almost deserted her when she met those slate blue eyes. No one
would call him handsome, not with his hard jaw and slightly crooked nose, the
lines in his face that hinted at more scowling than smiling, and those thick,
black brows and broad forehead.

No,
not handsome, but he would never be ignored, and his stare just took a lady’s
breath. Direct and unapologetic, that’s what it was. Like he knew who he was
and what he could do. He was dusty and unshaven with a few days’ growth of
beard, looking for all the world like an outlaw, yet her heart fluttered in her
chest. She clenched her hand at her side to stop herself from pressing it to
her bosom like some helpless heroine in a dime novel.

Don’t be foolish.
You’re not some green girl, Marianne. He’s just a man, not some outlaw—not if
he’s looking for the sheriff.

“Please close the door,” she said, amazed at the serenity
of her tone.

He
complied, kicking the portal shut and cutting off the blinding glare. Then he
faced her, a single black brow raised as he slid his rifle one-handed into the
holster strapped on his back. “Anything else I can do for you?”

She
lifted her chin and ignored an utterly improper notion that flashed through her
mind. Keep your wits, Marianne. “That
will be all for now, thank you. You were asking about the sheriff?”

“Yes,
ma’am.” He patted his long brown coat and came up with a crumpled piece of
paper. “Here.”

She
cast a wary glance at his prisoner.

He
followed her gaze. “Don’t worry about him.” He jerked on the rope. “You behave
in front of the lady, Addison, you hear me?”

“Yeah,
I’ll wait all right.” The stranger rolled his eyes and grinned at Marianne, a
lopsided quirk of the lips that transformed him from desperado to dashing in an
instant.

She
swallowed, her mouth completely dry at the change. “Kerrigan,” she repeated,
coming around the counter to take the paper from his fingers.

“Yes,
ma’am.” He tugged on his hat brim as she unfolded what proved to be a page of
newspaper. “J.G. Kerrigan, at your service.”

“Pleasure
to meet you,” she murmured, reading. “This is from the Chronicle. The story about that bank robbery in Timmonsville a few
months back. The one the Addison gang…” She slid a glance at his prisoner. Addison. “Is he one of the bank
robbers?”

“Yes.
Are you Sarah Donovan?”

“What?”
She met his unapologetic stare, then wished she hadn’t as her heart gave a huge
thump in response. “Oh. No, I’m not Sarah. I’m Marianne Westerly.” She returned
her attention to the safety of the newspaper.

“When
I saw the sheriff’s office was closed, I came looking for Sarah Donovan, as
she’s the one who wrote the thing,” he said. “Thought a newspaper woman could
tell me who acts as the law around here.”

“As
I said, she’s not here right now—”

The
back door to the office opened, and Sarah appeared, stopping short at the
tableau before her. “What’s this?”

Kerrigan
looked over at the new speaker as Marianne turned her head to address her
employer. “Sarah, this is—”

In
a flash, Addison spun, jerking the rope out of Kerrigan’s grip and looping it
around Marianne’s neck with his bound hands, cutting off her words. He dragged
her backwards towards the front door. “You all stay put now, or I’ll snap her
neck!”

“Hell.”
Kerrigan yanked his rifle from its holster.

Marianne
clawed at the rope, trying unsuccessfully to ease the unrelenting pressure of
the thick hemp around her throat. Already it was getting harder to breathe, and
the world spun a little, black dots popping in and out of her vision. She could barely make out Sarah
standing in the back of the room.

A prayer hovered on her lips, but she
squelched it. Is this how you mean for me
to die, God? After
everything you’ve put me through?

She
glanced at Kerrigan. He looked furious yet in control. He would probably make
this Addison fellow regret the day he was born for this little exploit.

She
wondered if she would live to see it.

“Don’t
be a damned fool, Joe.” Kerrigan eyed the prisoner down the length of his
rifle. “Let the lady go. If you hurt her, no judge is going to let you live.”

“You
put that Winchester down, Kerrigan, or she dies.” Addison tightened the rope.
“And you back there—I see you inching towards that rifle, woman! You better
stay put.”

Sarah froze and
glanced at Marianne, her face tense.

“Let
go or you die,” Kerrigan said. “If
you kill her, you really think you can take a single step before I drop you?”

The
rope eased just a little, and Marianne gasped a grateful breath.

“You
won’t kill me,” Addison sneered.

“Don’t
test me.”

“You
said you need me to get my brothers,” Addison said. “You kill me, they’ll hunt
you down and kill you dead.”

“See,
now you’re just making a case for me to kill you right here,” Kerrigan said.
“No one would blame me after you grabbed this lady, and your brothers would
come out of hiding and save me the trouble of tracking them down.”

“But…no,
I didn’t mean that!” Addison sputtered.

“Miss
Westerly,” Kerrigan said, “please accept my apology in advance. When I shoot
this bastard—excuse my language—you’re bound to get all messy with the blood
and brains and whatnot.”

“What?
What?” The prisoner’s voice climbed
an octave.

“As
much as I hate to mess up that pretty dress you’re wearing,” Kerrigan
continued, indicating her pale yellow cotton, “I’m sure you would much prefer
to lose a dress than your life.”

“You’re
talking about her dress?” Addison
shouted, spittle showering Marianne’s nape and cheek. “What about me? I’m the
one whose brains are gonna be all over!”

Kerrigan’s
gaze hardened. “Well, Joe, you started this whole thing by grabbing an innocent
woman. How did you think it was going to end?”

“Well,
I…my brothers…dang it.”

“Your
brothers aren’t here,” Kerrigan said. “And like you told me, killing you will
only flush them out sooner.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “So I kill you—and
you’re a pain in the ass anyway with all your whining and wailing—and then the
lady is safe, your brothers come out of hiding, and I get the bounty for the
whole Addison gang. Good thing, too, since I’ll owe the lady a new dress. Like
I said, sorry about that, ma’am,” he repeated to Marianne.

Marianne
managed to nod.

“Don’t
agree with him,” Addison snapped. “He’s crazy.”

“I’m crazy?” Kerrigan said. “Now, which
one of us grabbed a hostage with me not two feet away and armed? You would have
been smarter to go for my rifle, Joe. Then you’d be in control.”

“I
am in control!”

“Oh
yeah? I’ll have a bullet in your brain before you can make a move, and then
Miss Westerly and I will step over your body and head down to the mercantile so
she can pick out some fabric for her new dress.”

“Will
you shut up about the dress?” Addison shouted.

“Well,
I can’t do that, Joe. If I ruin her dress with your brains and blood, I need to
replace it. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“You’re
not a gentleman, you’re a goddamn bounty hunter!”

“Doesn’t
mean I don’t have manners.” Kerrigan gave Marianne a reassuring smile. “So Miss
Westerly, what kind of fabric should we get? And what color? I imagine pink
looks really pretty on you.”

Marianne
held his gaze, taking comfort in the reassurance she saw there. J.G. Kerrigan
would do whatever was necessary to get her out of this alive, and she would help wherever she could.
“Hate pink,” she managed.

“All
right then,” Kerrigan continued. “How about blue? I bet blue would bring out
those gray eyes of yours.”

“Never
mind the dang dress!” Addison shouted. “Here!” He freed Marianne, shoved her at
Kerrigan, and darted out the door.

Kerrigan
lowered his rifle and caught her with one strong arm around her waist. “You all
right, Miss Westerly?”

“Yes,”
Marianne rasped. She winced and fingered her throat. Surely her shortness of
breath came from almost being strangled and not from being in the arms of the man
who’d just saved her life.

“He’s
getting away!” Sarah grabbed her rifle off the wall and charged from the back.

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About Me

I do my best to blend fast-paced action with personal struggles and tender romance. Romantic suspense is my genre, and I write for Tirgearr Publishing in Ireland. Deadly Alliance has a release date of February 2016. I'm writing the sequel, Alliance of Liars.